Christmas at the Log Fire Cabin: A heart-warming and feel-good read. Catherine Ferguson

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СКАЧАТЬ Morelli – you know, the woman I cooked for.’

      ‘Oh. Yes, of course. Well, that’s brilliant.’

      I smile excitedly. ‘I know. It couldn’t have gone any better, really, despite the problem I had with the terrible cut of meat. I ended up having to slow cook—’

      His phone buzzes with a message.

      ‘Sorry, Puss.’ He glances at me apologetically and wanders out, studying his text. ‘You can tell me all about it in the morning,’ he calls from halfway up the stairs.

      I sit there, staring at the blank screen of the TV. After all the excitement of the night, it would have been lovely if Harrison had wanted to toast my success.

      No wonder I’m feeling a bit deflated.

      *

      Next morning, I’m making toast while Harrison does his morning vanishing act behind The Financial Times, when the landline rings.

      I dive on the phone, assuming it’s Erin calling to see how I’m feeling after last night.

      It’s a man’s voice.

      ‘Hi, Poppy. I hope you don’t mind me phoning, but I was just wondering how last night went?’

      For a second, I’m thrown. But not for long. That deep voice with a hint of gravel is unmistakeable.

      ‘It’s Jed. The total stranger who invited you for Christmas by mistake?’

      ‘Jed. Hi. Um – it went brilliantly, thanks.’

      ‘Was the customer happy?’

      I smile. ‘She was over the moon and her guests couldn’t stop complimenting the tiramisu.’

      There’s a rustle as Harrison pops his head round the newspaper and gives me a ‘who’s that?’ look.

      ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go,’ I tell Jed. ‘But thanks so much for calling.’

      ‘No problem. I’m just glad it went well. Have you got a name for the business, by the way?’

      ‘Well, not really. Although, my friend Erin thinks she’s come up with a corker.’

      ‘Which is?’

      I close my eyes and smile as I say it. ‘Diner Might.’

      There’s a brief silence, then the sound of hearty laughter. ‘Diner Might. Dynamite. I like it. Although maybe not quite the sophistication you’re aiming for?’

      ‘That’s just what I thought. Any suggestions gratefully received.’

      ‘Right, I’m on it.’

      ‘Is Clemmy coming for Christmas?’ I ask on impulse, not caring that Harrison is listening.

      ‘Yes, she is.’ Jed sounds surprised that I should ask. ‘I’m meeting her when I get off the train at Easingwold on the nineteenth.’

      ‘The two p.m. train?’ I smile, recalling how adamant he was about leaving London promptly for the holidays.

      He gives a throaty chuckle. ‘On the dot. She’s cut off her long red hair, apparently, so I’ve told her she has to wear a carnation otherwise I might not recognise the new sophisticated Clemmy.’

      I laugh, feeling the tiniest bit deflated, which is strange. Although, on reflection, it’s probably because, while Jed and Clemmy will be enjoying their Christmas together, Harrison will be away in Spain and it’ll just be me and Mum rubbing along together.

      ‘It sounds like you’re going to have a lovely Christmas.’

      ‘It’ll certainly be interesting,’ he says dryly. ‘What with Uncle Bob bringing his new woman and her two teenage kids, and my workaholic brother forced to tear himself away from his natural habitat to join us.’

      ‘Natural habitat?’ I’m intrigued.

      ‘Ryan’s a financial trader in the City of London. He does nothing but work and date ravishing blondes. And he hates the countryside.’

      ‘Ooh, yes. Well, anything could happen.’

      He groans. ‘Precisely.’

      There’s a brief pause. Then he says, ‘Bye then, Poppy. It’s been nice chatting.’

      ‘Who was that?’ asks Harrison as I sit down at the table and start buttering my toast.

      Breezily, I say, ‘Oh, just a friend wanting to know how last night went.’ It comes out a little more snippily than I intended.

      Completely oblivious, Harrison smiles and puts his paper down. ‘And how did it go, Puss? You haven’t actually told me.’

      I plaster on a smile. ‘It went really well, thanks. Can you pass the marmalade, please?’

      He settles back behind his newspaper, then pops his head round again a second later. ‘Dynamite? What was that about?’

      I shake my head and smile, thinking about how hilarious Jed found the name. I did tell Harrison about Erin’s daft suggestion, but he’s obviously forgotten all about it.

      ‘It’s nothing,’ I tell him. ‘Do you want some more toast?’

       Chapter 8

      It’s the night before Harrison leaves for Spain, and I’m keen to talk to him about my future plans. Ever since Mimi took over from Mr Hastings as restaurant manager, my morale has been on the floor, and the idea of catering dinner parties is becoming more and more attractive by the day.

      I make him his favourite steak pie, and afterwards, we settle down cosily on the sofa.

      ‘You know how I went on that cookery course with Erin?’ I begin, feeling actually rather nervous. And excited. ‘Well, I haven’t mentioned this, but I was talking to the tutor and he said there was a big demand for companies catering for events and private dinner parties. And he – well, he actually reckoned I’ve got what it takes. To cook for people.’ Even talking about it makes my heart skip along a little bit faster.

      Harrison’s eyes widen. ‘I thought you’d given up that idea.’

      ‘Well, I never really considered it seriously. But after cooking for Mrs Morelli, I’ve realised I can actually do it. So what do you think?’

      ‘Well, your food is fabulous, there’s no doubt about that.’ He stares at me intently and I can almost hear the cogs whirring as he weighs everything up. ‘Do you know, Poppy,’ he says at last. ‘I think you’re talented and clever enough to achieve anything you set your mind to.’

      ‘You think so?’ I flush with pleasure. I’m always amazed to СКАЧАТЬ